


Regret-Me-Not

by tangerinewords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Birthday, Falling In Love, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healer Draco Malfoy, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Explicit, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Pregnant Harry Potter, Resurrection Stone, Secret Relationship, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangerinewords/pseuds/tangerinewords
Summary: Harry has been seeing Draco for some time and they've gotten closer. However, their relationship is still strictly sexual, so when Harry finds out he's pregnant, he doesn't know whether he should tell Draco or not.When Luna returns the Resurrection Stone to him after having found it on the Forest, he talks to Sirius and asks him for advice...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 28
Kudos: 1017
Collections: HD Mpreg 2020





	Regret-Me-Not

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! (: I have a few things to say here, so bear with me, please...
> 
> First of all, if you’re reading this, _thank you_. This is my very first story, so it truly means a lot.
> 
> I want to thank [sassy_cissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa) for making all of this possible and for being so incredibly attentive, and [AnironSidh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnironSidh) for taking the time to read this and share her thoughts with me. (: And of course, a _very_ special thanks to my beta, [QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds), for being the loveliest, most patient person ever and agreeing to help me at such short notice. <3 You should definitely go read her amazing stories!
> 
> Lastly, I know this may sound lame, but since this is my first published work, I'd like to dedicate it to my beautiful family and my beloved mentor A...
> 
> Thank you, and please enjoy.

Hermione’s quiet chuckle brought Harry’s attention back to the conversation and away from the disgusting mixture of peanut butter and watermelon that was his best friend’s ice cream. They had picked up the proud graduate from King’s Cross early in the morning and were planning to take her straight home, but she insisted on dropping by Diagon Alley to check on George.

One year had passed since the end of the war and a lot had changed for everyone. However, the one thing that would _never_ change was the emptiness left behind by Fred. And Remus. And Tonks, and Dumbledore… _And Sirius._

So after having spent a couple of hours keeping the older Weasley company, they agreed to make a last stop at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. The large crowd they believed to have avoided at George’s shop had received them there, including a few journalists and photographers who were surely going to grace the Daily Prophet’s front page with an article about _‘The Golden Trio Together Again’_.

But that’s how they had ended up with two delicious cones and Ron’s dripping mess that was making Harry more nauseous by the minute.

“So,” Ron mumbled, too absorbed in licking his ice cream to notice Harry’s grossed out face, “what does it feel like to be free at last?”

“Contrary to what you might think, Ron,” Hermione stated with just the slightest hint of exasperation, “not everyone gets a feeling of imprisonment when they’re offered the opportunity to complete their schooling.”

And that had sounded so much like her… Thank Merlin she was back.

“We really missed you,” Harry finally spoke.

She sighed with affection and squeezed both her friend and boyfriend’s hands. “I missed you too… I have to admit, sometimes Hogwarts did feel a little bit like prison without you two in there.”

“I’m sure you enjoyed having a normal school year this time.”

“Yes, it was… interesting.” Hermione wasn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend, though; her knowing stare focused intently on Harry. “Ron, dear… Would you mind getting me another cone? I’m not really in the mood for mint, after all.”

The redhead eyed them curiously, but got up anyway. “Okay… But it’s going to take some time, look at that queue.”

“It’s okay, I’ll wait.” She smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek. “Strawberry sundae, please. Thanks!”

She sat down again as soon as he was gone. “Alright, what’s wrong?”

Harry looked at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Harry, I’ve known you for eight years now. Do you really think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you?”

He looked away this time, scanning the crowded street before them. “It’s just… Everything’s so different.”

Hermione’s eyes were incredibly soft when she spoke. “It is. But it’s a good kind of different, isn’t it?” Her face dropped a little. “I mean, I’m sure Mr. Fortescue would be pleased to know that his shop is still up and running.”

Harry nodded.

“I’m also kind of seeing someone,” he said suddenly, aiming to catch her off guard.

And it was amazing to see how fast his friend’s expression changed to show the biggest smile. “Are you really?! Harry, that’s amazing! You never mentioned it in your letters.”

“Yeah, it’s not really something I fancied discussing by post...”

“Right. Oh, I’m so happy for you! Who is she? Do I know her?”

Harry’s slight grimace gave Hermione all she needed to quickly catch on.

“It’s not a ‘she’, is it?”

He remained silent.

“And that’s why Ron doesn’t know anything about this.” She was so clever; Harry loved her to bits.

Much to his surprise, Ron had been more than supportive when he and Ginny decided to split up only a few weeks after the Battle. For some reason he hadn’t punched Harry in the face, as he was almost certain he would. But there was something telling him that this time he wouldn’t be that lucky. After all, he had more than one reason to do it.

“It’s not just the fact that he’s a guy. I mean, yes, his reaction to that part is one of my main concerns, but… It’s more about _who_ this guy is…”

Hermione seemed unconcerned. “You’re making it sound so serious. Look, I don’t know why you’re saying all this, but I’m sure that Ron will-”

“It’s Malfoy,” he blurted out.

And suddenly the smartest person Harry knew had run out of things to say.

After a few seconds she managed to stutter, “Wait, Malfoy as in… _Draco_ Malfoy?”

“Yes, Hermione. I’m not into forty-something-year-old men, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Harry still resented Lucius Malfoy, there was no hiding that.

“No, I meant-” She blushed deeply. “I’m sorry, it was a bit of a shock… But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you; Draco was never a bad person. Not really.” And her smile did seem sincere. “I heard he’s a Healer now?”

“Trainee Healer,” he clarified. “Anyway, don’t be so happy. Remember I said I’m _kind of_ seeing him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” it was Harry’s turn to blush, “we just have, _fun_ together, and that’s it. It was a mutual agreement.”

“But you don’t want it to be like that anymore…” It wasn’t clear to Harry if that was meant to be a question, so he looked into her eyes only for her to continue. “You’re in love with him.”

Harry had never felt more uncomfortable and vulnerable in the presence of his best friend. He didn’t like that feeling. “I don’t know how I feel about him. It’s not like it matters anyway.”

“Harry, you have to talk to him.”

He laughed bitterly. “And say what? _‘Hey, listen, I know we had agreed on something, but lately I’ve been feeling like completely disregarding that and I was wondering if you’d mind…’_ That’s not going to happen.”

Hermione sighed. “Look, I know you’ve already come up with all the reasons why making this work would be impossible. But one year ago, this conversation would have seemed impossible. And we’re actually having it now.”

Both of them could now see Ron approaching their table with Hermione’s sundae in one hand and a whole new cone for himself in the other one.

“Just think about that.”

But if there was something Harry was tired of, it was thinking. So for the time being he just went back to his Salted Caramel Blondie ice cream. The one that he definitely _did not_ choose just for the “blondie” in the name.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_The first time Harry and Draco spent the night together was just a few months after the end of the war and, needless to say, it was the last thing Harry thought would happen when he arrived at the Leaky Cauldron that evening._

_He had gone to pick up a bottle of Blishen's Fire Cinnamon Flavoured Whisky for one of Mrs. Weasley’s recipes, who, at the time, had taken up cooking all kinds of dishes and desserts. Harry wasn’t complaining; Merlin knew she needed the distraction._

_But what was supposed to be only a quick errand would turn out to be a very long night as soon as Harry caught sight of a slouching figure sitting at the bar who was none other than Draco Malfoy._

_His hair was dishevelled, shirt hanging untucked, he had grey circles under his eyes, and he was_ slouching _. Harry couldn’t have stopped the sunken feeling to his stomach even if he had wanted to. And he didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to._

_The war was over. Both of Malfoy’s parents were alive and they had even managed to avoid serving time in Azkaban. What was the prat doing at such an un-Malfoyish place drowning himself in the cheapest alcohol?_

_Without even realising it, Harry was walking towards him. “I feel morally obliged to let you know that your robes aren’t quite living up to your impeccable standards right now.”_

_The Slytherin didn’t even flinch. He just looked up at Harry and then resumed drinking his dubious liquor._

_“Are you really just going to ignore me?”_

_“What do you want, Potter? I don’t have the energy to pay proper homage to the Saviour today.”_

_And how dare he imply Harry enjoyed that kind of treatment?! He was honestly so sick of people acting all reverent and solicitous towards him, it was_ hell _._

_“Well, seems like you do have the energy and the talent to be a dick whenever you want to.”_

_This time, Malfoy did look him in the eye as he asked, “Are you quite finished?”_

_And there was something in those eyes that made Harry cool down immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come all the way here to add to your misery. I actually wanted to check on you.”_

_That earned him a snort. “I’m sure you did.”_

_“I’m serious.”_

_“Well, I don’t need your pity, Potter. You can run along.”_

_And boy, was he trying to get on his nerves._

_But Harry wasn’t up for that game anymore. He’d had more than enough time to reconsider a lot of aspects of his life; including this particularly conflictive one. “Listen, I think the circumstances have left pretty clear what was the one thing we both spent our lives being scared shitless of. We were never that different from each other. I think it’s about time we realise that and let go of this childish feud.”_

_His little speech did manage to get to Malfoy, judging by the glistening of his eyes and the way he was tightly clenching his glass, but the blond did not utter a single word for what seemed like an eternity to Harry._

_And just as he was about to get up and leave him be, the impossible happened._

_“Wait.”_

_Harry turned back around._

_“I never did thank you for…” he visibly gulped, “saving my life.”_

_The younger boy took that as his cue to sit back down. “I like to think that you would have done the same thing.” He instantly felt himself flush; why on Earth had he said that?!_

_But before he could begin trying to fix it, Malfoy spoke with the sincerest tone Harry had ever heard on him, “I would have.”_

_So he just nodded solemnly, and accepted the glass Tom was offering him. Harry took one sip from it and quickly swallowed before he could spit it out._

_“Any particular reason why we’re drinking this rotgut and not the fanciest Scotch you’re used to?”_

_“I believe you acknowledged my ‘misery’ when you first approached, Potter. I’m drowning my sorrows, this is not a celebration.” It was impressive how he still managed to be so eloquent while being so clearly inebriated. His eyelashes were also impressive; Harry had never really observed them in detail… They were blond as well, and so long…_

_He coughed awkwardly when he caught himself staring and downed the entire glass in one go, trying his hardest not to grimace but failing miserably. “I see. Because there’s so much to weep about now that the evillest Dark Wizard of all time is gone...”_

_Malfoy kept staring blankly ahead. “It’s just hard to realise you have nothing when your family’s name is not worth one Knut.”_

_Harry managed to control the anger he felt at hearing those words. “You still have what matters most. Maybe start thinking about that.”_

_Four glasses later he found out that the more you drank of that mysterious beverage, the less acrid it tasted. And the dizzier it made you feel. By the time they’d stopped filtering their words, the sky was already pitch-black outside, but neither of them seemed to care._

_“You know, at one point in my life I actually thought I’d grow up to be this talented and renowned Healer…”_

_Harry couldn’t believe he was getting to know such a different side of a person he had despised for so long. “You could still be; why not?” It was even more shocking to discover that he actually liked said person._

_Malfoy chuckled incredulously. “Easy to say for the Chosen One.” But he didn’t even get the chance to retort before the other boy was saying, “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. You do deserve that title.”_

_And the way he looked at Harry quite literally left him breathless. Those eyelashes…_

_“Alright, I think it’s pretty late, but I’m not about to let you Apparate in this state. We don’t want you Splinching yourself.”_

_The older boy smirked. “Are you offering to Apparate me home? You do realise you’re no less drunk than I am.”_

_“Or, you could stay at my place for the night. It’s only like a fifteen-minute drive from here.”_

_“Did you just say ‘drive’? Like, on an actual muggle car?” His tone wasn’t disdainful, but rather teasing. “How is that safer than Apparition?”_

_“You’re right, it’s a terrible idea. We could just walk, or take the Knight Bus?”_

_“Trust me, Potter, that’s not the worst idea I intend to regret tomorrow morning...” And with that, he drank what was left on his glass and stood up. “Lead the way.”_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Two weeks after Harry and Hermione’s deep talk found the three of them, plus Ginny, amongst dusty boxes, magically-extended trunks, and just piles and piles of all kinds of ancient things. Harry’s friends had offered to stay with him for a few days and help him tidy everything up.

It had already been three years since he inherited 12 Grimmauld Place and there were still some rooms which they hadn’t gone through. There was a reason for that. Harry remembered what it had been like when they did that same thing back in 1997… Every single piece of furniture, every book, and just about _everything_ made him think about Sirius. And the future they could have had together. And lately he’d been thinking about him a lot as it was; he didn’t need any more triggers or reminders that he would never be able to talk to his godfather again.

Harry knew he could just use a couple of Pack and Scouring Charms, or perhaps ask Kreacher to do all the cleaning for him, but he felt it was something he had to do wholeheartedly. He owed Sirius at least that. And now that Ginny had been planning to throw a party for him there, he’d ran out of excuses for putting it off.

It was nice to have them there, though. And also extremely convenient. For some reason, he’d been feeling absolutely exhausted for the past few weeks; never in a million years would he had been able to do it all on his own.

“Here.” Harry looked up from where he had been rummaging through some drawers and was met with a steaming cup of tea that Hermione was offering him. “How are you feeling?”

Harry accepted it gladly and immediately detected the smell of peppermint. “So much better, thank you.”

Earlier that day, he had woken up to one of the worst waves of nausea he had ever felt and had consequently woken up the other three teenagers on his way to the restroom to throw up. That had marked day number five.

“I don’t know, mate, this has been going on for far more time than it should be… Maybe we should consider going to St. Mungo’s.” And Harry didn’t fail to notice the way Ron had used the word “we” instead of “you”. He truly did have a family now; what would Harry do without them?

Still, doing that was _so_ out of the question.

“And give Rita Skeeter the chance to write a new article about how I’m dying from some mysterious illness? I don’t think so.”

“You’re not dying from some mysterious illness.”

“Actually, we don’t know that, Hermione.” Harry was now beginning to get worried and his voice showed it. “We can’t know.”

Ginny spoke then. “You can always use Polyjuice.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t want to let my life turn into this living hell where I have to dress up as someone else every time I go out.” He sighed. “I’ll go. It just might be best if I do it alone; a large group would attract more attention.”

His friends nodded in understanding.

And once again, Ginny was the one to break the silence. “Harry, are you going to invite anyone to the party?”

That question made him smile. “You mean, besides the five dozen people you have already invited?”

“It’s your first _real_ birthday party! It has to be special!”

Harry loved how excited she was over the whole thing. When she had first brought it out, he wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the idea. But he knew it made her happy, so he was happy as well. He was just so thankful that they had managed to remain friends after the breakup; Ginny was one of the most important people in Harry’s life.

She continued after making sure to glare at Ron and Hermione, silencing their giggles. “But yes, I meant that. I have to know the exact number of guests so I can take care of everything else.”

Harry beamed. “No, Gin. Your list will do.”

“Maybe you should think about it, Harry…”

And he couldn’t believe Hermione had said that out loud.

“Think about what?” he replied curtly.

“Inviting some of your other friends to the party. It could be a great opportunity for us to meet them.”

“I don’t have ‘other friends’, Hermione, you know that.”

“Perhaps someone from work?”

“I don’t think Harry would appreciate any of them at his party,” Ron chimed in, frowning.

“What about some of our former classmates?”

“I’ve already invited-”

“Even if they came, I don’t think you’d have much to talk about.” Harry didn’t even realise he had interrupted Ginny; he could feel his heartbeat rising.

“I think you’d be surprised.”

But their not-so-friendly-anymore exchange was abruptly interrupted when Harry stood up from where he was sitting on the floor and nearly fell back down again. A gush of vertigo and light-headedness had made him lost his balance and had Ron not been there to support him, he would have ended up with more than a light bruise.

When the room came back into focus, the first thing he saw were three pairs of extremely concerned eyes. But in all honesty, Harry felt okay, albeit just a little woozy.

“I’m fine,” he assured his friends.

Hermione stepped forward and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered on his ear and he could tell she was crying.

Harry just hugged her back as tightly.

When they broke apart, he found Ron and Ginny staring at him sceptically.

“Honestly, I’m probably just a little weak from throwing up earlier.”

“Mate, you’re going to see a Healer even if I have to drag you by the ears.”

Harry nodded. “I will.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_The next time Harry saw Draco after their first encounter was on Level Ten of the Ministry of Magic._

_As much as Harry loved calling himself an Auror and as grateful as he was to Kingsley for giving him the opportunity to do so, being locked inside a cubicle for the majority of his day had really been taking a toll on him. That, and the constant stares he got from his co-workers and pretty much anyone who happened to visit the DMLE Headquarters._

_So he’d taken to volunteer for every single task that would keep him away from his office for at least some minutes. And that’s how he’d reached the courtrooms carrying a message for the Chief Warlock; one that was too important to just pass through a memo._

_He’d been about to leave the place when the door leading to one of the smallest courtrooms opened up. Harry absentmindedly scanned the people trailing out of there until a tuft of white-blond hair caught his eye and caused him to feel a twinge of worry._

_This time, Malfoy was actually caught by surprise when he spoke. “Everything okay?”_

_After he’d put a face to the voice who had startled him, the blond said in the calmest tone, “Good evening, Potter. I didn’t expect to see you here.”_

_Harry looked at him with impatience. “I, work here… What’s wrong?”_

_“Why would there be anything wrong?”_

_“You just came out of one of the courtrooms.” The rational part of Harry’s mind was warning him of how apprehensive he was being, but he couldn’t help it._

_“I requested a hearing.”_

_“What for?”_

_Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him. Only that made Harry slow down._

_He shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me.”_

_“No, I don’t,” the boy confirmed. However, after a few seconds he went on. “I’m asking for their approval to be able to take my N.E.W.T.s.”_

_Harry then remembered the conversation they’d had at the Leaky Cauldron. “You’re seeking to become a Healer.”_

_And if he hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have believed it, but he actually witnessed_ Draco Malfoy’s _cheeks turning red. “Well, you said it yourself… Why not?”_

_For lack of a better response, he nodded._

_“Listen, about what happened_ that _night…” He could feel Malfoy tense up, meaning he was not the only one not looking forward to addressing that subject. “I’m well aware that it was only a one-time thing, you really don’t need to avoid me.”_

_The other boy looked up. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”_

_“Great. Because you don’t have to. I really meant what I said about us being... civil. You know?”_

_“Potter. I’m probably going to regret saying this out loud. And to you, of all people… But as mad as it sounds, I actually didn’t have a_ terrible _time that day...” Harry was speechless. “And I agree with you; we’re not twelve years old anymore. I have no reason to avoid you.”_

_“Okay. I’m glad we cleared that up.” His voice came out slightly shaking, and he cursed inwardly. “Well… I have to go back up. Good luck with your petition.”_

_He headed for the stairs without even waiting for a reply, but immediately turned back around. “Hey, er, do you maybe want to go grab some... Butterbeers?”_

_Malfoy’s teasing smile gave him a strange sense of confidence. “That was subtle, Potter. Do you ever get tired of embarrassing yourself?” When Harry didn’t say anything, he added, “I thought you were working.”_

_Harry cast a glance at his watch. “I get off in ten minutes.”_

_Malfoy nodded. “My place this time.”_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry came back home feeling ten times heavier than when he left. Even lifting one foot after the other to walk seemed like a difficult task, but at the same time he felt as though he was floating. Kind of, like a dream…

“Kreacher!”

He was by his side in no time.

Harry swayed slightly and Kreacher was quick to grab him by the wrists. As soon as they touched, though, the grumpy creature’s ears shot upwards and his eyes grew wide. He turned to gaze at Harry’s middle intently.

Harry felt himself panic. He- he couldn’t know, could he? There was no way he could…

He rushed to get him to stop staring. “Can you get me-?” He’d been about to ask for their strongest liquor, but then remembered he couldn’t do that. He sighed. “Can you get me some water, please?”

Kreacher stood still for a moment, studying him. Then he nodded and disappeared with a _pop_.

Harry made it to the stairs and sat down on the first step. The night before had been the last night his friends had slept there, and he hadn’t taken the time to pay attention to how silent the house was without them...

The elf returned with a tray containing a single glass and a carafe filled with water. He looked around, uncertain about where to place it.

“That’s okay, Kreacher, you can put it on the floor.”

He didn’t seem so convinced, but still did as he was told. “Will Master be needing anything else?”

Harry looked at him. “Not for now. Thanks.”

Ridiculous as it sounded, he wanted to ask him to stay with him. That should have been an indicator of how fucked up his situation was. Instead, he watched him disappear once again, and, with shaking hands, helped himself to some water.

He drank it slowly and thought back to what the Healer had said earlier.

He was _pregnant_.

The word alone gave him goosebumps; it was such a surreal thing to think about…

When he had agreed to this whole thing with Malfoy, he’d thought it was all about winning and absolutely nothing to lose. A meaningless whim he could put an end to whenever he wanted to… Now it looked like he’d ended up “winning” far more than what he could have possibly asked for. And that had been his second slip-up...

Harry climbed the stairs one by one until he reached the top floor. He had adopted his godfather’s room as his own since the day he decided to move there and hadn’t dare to move one single thing, wanting to keep everything as close as possible to what had been Sirius’ bedroom.

 _Sirius._ What would he think about the mess Harry had managed to get himself into?

The word “disappointed” came to his mind, but he refused to hold that thought. Even if that was the case, Harry was feeling miserable enough as it was. And there was no use tormenting himself over something he would never get to ascertain. Not when he could torment himself over the very tangible reality that was currently nestled within him.

He went to his nightstand and opened the second drawer to retrieve a small shiny object that had remained hidden for quite some time. One of Malfoy’s silver cufflinks. He’d left it behind during one of their numerous rendezvous and the day Harry was planning to give it back, he realised he didn’t want to.

That was the day he’d first considered the possibility of there being something more to their, apparently, strictly sexual relationship. At least on Harry’s behalf.

He let himself play with the piece of metal for a few minutes. He liked that piece of metal; he liked it _a lot_. It had nothing peculiar; just an engraved letter “D” and the smallest emerald beside it. Yet that plain “D” carried a special meaning for Harry. It stood for _Draco_ , not _Malfoy_. Not the brat that Harry had spent years fighting with, but the caring man he’d had the chance to get to know and get close to during the last months.

The blond was always trying his hardest to conceal that part of himself from people. He’d tried so hard to conceal it from Harry as well. But the man was now training to become a Healer, for Merlin’s sake… And that just said so much about the person he really was.

Yes. Harry’s first slip-up had been to fall in love with him.

His eyes spotted a leather-clad notebook that was just peeking out from under his bed and a single tear slipped from one of them. He bent down to take it and dusted it off with his hand. It was the photo album Hagrid had gifted him during his first year at Hogwarts.

It had gotten a lot thicker since then, with all his friends adding pictures to it. Sirius and Remus had given him some of his parents and he had even managed to steal a couple muggle Polaroids of his mom’s childhood from his aunt’s jewellery box when they were moving out of Privet Drive.

He leafed through every picture fondly, smiling back at the people portrayed in them. The last few years had not been exactly photo-worthy, so there were not many recent pictures on the album. In fact, there was only one…

Several days after Voldemort’s defeat, Harry had been having breakfast along with the group of people that were helping with the castle’s reconstruction. Every single person Harry loved and cared about was there; but there was a horrid atmosphere of grief and sorrow. Ginny had then stood up from her seat and returned minutes later carrying a small camera she’d found inside one of the classrooms. She’d delivered a small speech about how life goes on and how they should focus on enjoying it and the people who were still there, on behalf of those who weren’t. Touched by her words, everyone gathered for a photo to commemorate the moment.

And that photo had ended up in Harry’s possession.

He ran his finger over it and, for the first time ever, he noticed the caption accompanying it, delicately scribbled in Ginny’s handwriting:

_’A new chapter begins…’_

Harry’s throat tightened and he let his hand find its way to his stomach.

That was everything he needed and in that moment, he knew he wanted to keep his baby. _Their_ baby.

He still knew those plans were not anywhere near to what Malfoy was looking for at the moment, and he still had no idea whether he was actually going to inform him of them. But nothing was going to take away the joy Harry was suddenly flooded with.

No matter what happened, Harry was not going to face it alone...

He gently rubbed his thumb over his shirt.

Not now, not ever.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_The morning after Harry and Draco’s second night together, Harry woke up to a still dark sky, but the chirping of the birds outside announced that the sun was due to come out at any minute._

_Beside him, Malfoy was still fast asleep; his silvery fringe dancing with every breath he released through his slightly open mouth and cheeks somehow still flushed. Harry forced himself to stop staring and instead focused on getting out of the bed without disturbing the other boy’s peaceful slumber._

_He’d almost finished tying his shoelaces when he heard Malfoy murmur, “Leaving already, Potter?”_

_Harry stood up from the crimson divan on which he had been sitting and relished the way the wooden floor didn’t creak as he was so used to. “It’s almost sunrise.”_

_“Are you some kind of vampire or something?” Malfoy asked as he sat up._

_“No.” Only after he’d done it did Harry realise he wasn’t supposed to answer that question. He quickly tried to cover it up. “I thought you’d want me to leave.”_

_The blond looked at him. “Did I say so?”_

_“No, but-”_

_“Then why would you assume that?” He was now searching through his drawers for a new pair of boxers._

_Harry was trying his hardest not to get distracted by Malfoy’s bare body. “Last time you snuck out in the middle of the night.”_

_For a slight moment, the older boy paused what he was doing. “I’m not a fan of rising damp and cobwebs.”_

_But his excuse had sounded so insincere and hollow that Harry didn’t even bother to scold him for bad-mouthing his godfather’s ancestral home._

_He seemed to be aware of that, because he sighed before relenting, “I just thought it would be weird to stay.”_

_“Isn’t it weird now?”_

_“Perhaps.” He turned to face Harry with the selected garments in his hand. “But I’m already awake, so you don’t get to do it now… That’s also a talent, Potter. An incredibly underappreciated one, might I add.”_

_Harry just stood there as he got dressed in front of him. Oddly enough, it made him so much more uncomfortable watching him put on his clothes than take them off._

_“My parents won’t be back until later today, so you’re welcome to stay for breakfast.” He grabbed from the nightstand the same pair of silver cufflinks he’d been wearing the night before. And also the day he’d ran into him at the Leaky Cauldron. Was it weird that Harry had noticed that? “Unless you have work today… Or something else to tend to.”_

_Harry shook his head._

_He followed Malfoy into the kitchen and watched him fix some tea for both of them. “I would’ve thought you’d have house-elves to do all this for you.”_

_Malfoy eyed him, unamused. “Believe it or not, I’m totally capable of preparing a decent enough breakfast.”_

_In a matter of minutes, Harry had before him a plate of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and French toast. He tried not to think too much of the fact that his former rival was now on the ridiculously short list of people who had ever cooked for him._

_“So,” the blond began, “weekends and weekdays after six?”_

_“I’m sorry?”_

_“See, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind… repeating this, from time to time.”_

_Harry was relieved he didn’t actually choke on his tea. “Are you suggesting-?”_

_“Yes, Potter.” Malfoy interrupted him as if he didn’t want the words to be spoken out loud. He took a deep breath. “I’d dare to guess that you and the Weasley girl are not together anymore… Or would that be too morally repulsive for you even so?” The sarcastic tone was back._

_Harry’s mouth was still unconsciously agape, but he let himself think about it for a second. He didn’t have anyone to respond to anymore and, truth be told, he’d rather enjoyed Malfoy’s_ company _both times. Anyone else would have told him that it was a bad idea, but no commitment implied no big risks. And quite frankly, Harry missed some adventure in his life._

_“This doesn’t get in the way of us being civil, right?”_

_“I don’t know, Potter, does it?”_

_He considered it one last time._

_“I think we’ll be okay.”_

_The Slytherin smiled triumphantly before taking a bite of toast._

_Harry risked speaking again. “Hey, Malfoy.” Grey eyes landed on his. “I think it’s great that you decided to give it a go… This whole, Healer thing…”_

_Malfoy nodded shyly. Then he added, “I suggest you hurry up with that plate. I’m sure we can figure out a way of putting our time to good use…”_

_Harry’s smile was genuine as it could be._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ron greeted Harry at the entrance to the Burrow. He looked surprised to see him. “Hey, mate.”

“Hi. Is Hermione here?” Harry knew it was a stupid question; of course Hermione was there.

“She’s inside… What’s happened?” His friend stepped aside to let him in.

“Nothing, I just want to talk to you.” Just then, the girl appeared behind Ron. “To both of you.”

They all walked into the living room and sat down. Just then, Harry noticed that the ever-hectic place was so unusually quiet.

“Where’s everyone?”

The pair exchanged glances.

“What?” Harry was really trying to remain calm, _really trying_.

“Mr. Weasley’s with George at the shop. And, well, I don’t think we’re supposed to discuss details, but Ginny and Mrs. Weasley have been getting everything ready for your party these last couple of days.”

His party. He’d completely forgotten about it.

“Mate, are you sure everything’s alright?”

Harry nodded.

He felt rather guilty about it, but he was glad it was just the three of them. He _loved_ Ginny and all the Weasleys, but he knew talking to Ron and Hermione beforehand was only the right thing to do.

He brushed his palms against his lap and took a deep breath. This was it.

“Okay, Ron. I guess I have a confession for you.”

His friend straightened up, visibly nervous.

“First of all, I want to apologise for not telling you about this before; I was scared to do it. But you’re my best friend, and I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore.” From the other side of the couch, Hermione offered him a reassuring smile. So Harry went on. “I’m gay.”

Ron stared at him for a moment, then turned his gaze upon his girlfriend. He seemed confused, which Harry thought was completely normal. But then he said, “I, know…?”

“What?” Harry was utterly stunned. “How could you know?”

“How could _you_ assume I did not know? Harry, you just said it, I’m your best friend.”

They looked at each other amidst an uncomfortable silence, until Hermione burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she let out in between giggles. “It’s just… You two are so funny sometimes.”

And just like that, the tension was gone.

“So you’re okay with it?” Harry needed to be sure.

“You know, I’m going to pretend I’m not at all offended by the fact that you thought I was a homophobic bastard...”

“I’m sorry.” He truly was sorry, but he was also incredibly relieved. However, this was just one less obstacle; and Harry had two more to go through with Ron that day. “There’s more to it, though.”

Hermione must have sensed his nervousness increasing, because she leaned forward and took one of his hands. “It’s okay, Harry. Take your time.”

He took a few seconds to compose himself.

“I have been going out with this person for almost a year-”

“A year?! Harry-” Ron was now definitely offended.

“I know, it sounds awful,” Harry conceded, “but the main reason I didn’t tell you was because it’s not… It’s just not a _committed_ relationship, okay?”

Had this not been a serious conversation, Harry would have laughed at the way Ron’s entire face turned red. “Oh.”

“Yeah…”

“What’s the other reason?” Harry looked up at him. “You said ‘the main reason’, so there’s got to be another one, right?”

After another quick glance at Hermione, he spoke the words before he could have time to back out. “This _person_ is Draco Malfoy.” He made sure to include his first name this time.

His best friend just remained completely unresponsive, as if waiting for him to continue. When Harry didn’t, he muttered, “You’re joking.”

Neither Harry nor Hermione said anything.

“Oh, crap.” Now he could see him panicking. “Harry, have you lost your mind?!”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I have…” Harry resented.

“Of course not,” came Hermione’s comforting voice. Then she turned to her boyfriend and glared at him. “Ronald, let me help you out here. Your best friend has just trusted you with something he cares deeply about; you’re supposed to be loving and considerate-”

“We’re talking about _Malfoy_ -!”

“We are.” Harry’s loud voice silenced both of them. “Which leads us to the actual reason why I wanted to talk to you.”

Hermione frowned in confusion. Harry knew she thought his fling with Malfoy was all this was about, but she had no idea.

“Remember all the vomiting and dizzy spells?” They nodded. “Well, I did go to St. Mungo’s a few days ago…”

He had his friends’ full attention. And so Harry dropped the third and biggest bombshell. “I’m pregnant.”

There was a gasp and Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth. Ron just stood there, speechless.

“Look, I know you don’t like Malfoy, and I know you don’t approve of this- whatever thing we have going on. But I’ve already decided to keep this baby.” Harry’s tone held more determination than it ever had. “And I came here hoping you’d support that decision.”

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione threw herself at him. “How can you possibly doubt it?” While he was hugging her, he cast a glance at Ron. He couldn’t recognise the emotion portrayed on his best friend’s face, but Harry was suddenly scared. “This is great! It’s… I’m just so, so happy.” The girl wiped her wet cheeks with her hand.

When she moved to give Ron space, Harry was sure he was about to get punched; or at least yelled at. But all the redhead did was take him into his arms. “I’m so sorry I overreacted.” He let go of him only to look into his eyes and tell him with absolute genuineness, “You’re my brother. And you can fucking bet I will love any child of yours just as much as I love you.”

Harry couldn’t stop himself anymore and before he even realised it there were tears rolling down his face. A complete cocktail of tears; joy, relief, love, gratitude…

After they had all calmed down a little, Ron addressed the elephant in the room. “What did Malfoy say about this?”

Harry looked away.

“You haven’t told him,” Hermione whispered. “Harry!”

“I can’t, Hermione.” There was the uneasiness in his stomach again. “Something like this was so out of what we had originally agreed on… And you don’t know him as I do, but he’s now trying so hard to get his life together. He’s worked so hard to build his career. And we’re just _nineteen_...”

“Exactly! And you’re planning to take it all on yourself?”

“I just know I already love this baby with my whole heart, Ron. If I have to do it on my own, I will.”

“But you don’t have to.” Hermione had that look on her face that could only mean she was about to say something brilliant and wise. It was _so_ annoying. “Harry, he’s going to be a father as well; he has the right to know.”

He shook his head.

“If this was the other way around, wouldn’t you want him to tell you?”

When she put it like that, it actually made sense. He heaved a sigh of frustration. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, what about this… Invite him to the party and observe his reaction. It should give you a clue as to how he feels.”

“He doesn’t feel like starting a family, I can assure you.”

She sighed. “Harry. Just…”

“Okay, okay. I guess I can do that.”

Hermione nodded.

“And, mate.” Harry turned to meet Ron’s gaze. “Regardless of what happens with him, you’ll never have to do anything on your own. You’ve got us. For life.”

For the second time in less than an hour, Harry’s eyes filled with tears.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_A dainty, manicured hand grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. It was a nice room, with elegant linens and warm lighting. The night breeze was flowing in through the open windows and a full-length mirror stood majestic on the wall opposite the bed._

_The clatter of high heels echoed through the place as they approached it and seconds later the reflection of a young girl wearing a green dress came into view._

_Just then, the door opened once again and a beautiful brunette stepped in._

_“A redhead. Hilarious, Potter.”_

_Harry let out a laugh and replied in his sweet borrowed voice. “Do you like it? I did spend some time choosing her just for you. And don’t overlook the dress.”_

_“Well, don’t I feel special?”_

_Unlikely as it was, Harry and Draco’s arrangement had worked wonders for both of them. Setting up meetings had been awkward at the beginning, but as time went on they proved to be skilful at working around each other’s schedule and the interactions that had once felt so unnatural, soon became one of the things they both looked forward to the most at the end of a long day._

_The frequency of their get-togethers varied depending on the circumstances, with some weeks reaching three days in a row and some other times roughly once a fortnight. But as it was to be expected, at a certain point they got tired of the same two places and had to come up with ideas that would not put the secrecy of their relationship in jeopardy._

_And that’s how muggle hotel rooms and the Polyjuice Potion became their best friends when they craved a change of scenery._

_“So how was work?” Harry asked._

_“Exhausting.” Malfoy was now carefully removing his staged outfit and changing into a white bathrobe. “Merlin, this will never stop being weird.”_

_Harry moved to sit on the bed. “Not too exhausting, I hope…”_

_He got a smile in return. “Never.”_

_Someone knocked on the door, startling them. “Room service!”_

_“Did you order something?” A pair of brunette brows furrowed in confusion._

_“I did.”_

_Before opening the door, Harry grabbed a small purse from the coat rack. The seemingly ordinary feminine hands retrieved some cash and handed it to the man standing outside before carefully taking the tray from him. “Thank you.”_

_He turned around carrying a red velvet cake._

_Malfoy chuckled, and Harry wasn’t sure if it had to do with the effects of the Polyjuice, but the chuckle had sounded rather fond. “You’re such a slushy idiot.”_

_“Everyone deserves a birthday cake.”_

_Harry thought back to when he was a small kid living with the Dursleys and no one would remember his birthday. A cake was something he never got to have until Hagrid baked one for him when he turned eleven. He knew Malfoy was probably used to having at least five different cakes each year, but the fact that the boy had decided to spend the few hours he had left of his birthday with him, made Harry want to at least get him one._

_He placed the cake on the coffee table and began to take off the very pretty but very uncomfortable dress he had bought. While he was doing so, he saw the first strands of blond hair appear on his companion’s head and recognised the familiar tingle of the potion’s effects wearing off._

_After they had both regained their respective bodies, Harry took out his wand and, pointing to the single candle decorating the cake, he murmured,_ “Incendio” _._

_He turned to Malfoy. “You get to make a wish now.”_

_The blond looked at him flirtatiously. “Any wish?”_

_“Well, it’s your birthday, isn’t it?”_

_“As far as I know.”_

_Harry laughed. “’Wish away’, then.”_

_Malfoy blew out the candle in one breath and, wasting no more time, he went to kiss Harry’s jaw and guided them towards the bed._

_Harry didn’t know what Malfoy had wished for, but what he did know was that that night had been more special than any other night. Maybe it was the fact that it was Malfoy’s birthday, or maybe he was just delusional. But the intimacy he had felt with every kiss and every touch was undeniable to him. And for that moment, that had been enough._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

If Harry hadn’t been there to witness the transformation, he would have sworn that Ginny had somehow magically transferred them into a different location. The normally gloomy and lifeless house now radiated glee and an overall festive freshness that had everyone feeling delighted.

There were sets of crimson and golden luminous balloons in every corner, shimmering lights floating around conjured by Hermione, and a huge table that Mrs. Weasley had set up containing so much food it even rivalled Hogwarts’ Welcoming Feast.

Harry had taken a glance and felt like crying when he saw all the effort his friend had put into organising all that just for him.

He was now currently leaning against the ornamented banister that had a perfect view of the front door, opting to stay there so he wouldn’t have to be moving from one place to the other to greet the guests and accept their congratulations.

Ron and Hermione walked to him.

“You should just come and sit down, mate; you have been standing here for over an hour. And I don’t think anyone else is coming.” His eyes scanned the overly packed place, and then he seemed to remember something. “Wait, Malfoy…?”

Harry just shook his head.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Hermione spoke softly.

“It’s okay. I think it’s better this way.”

She hesitated for a second. “You still have to tell him, you know?”

Harry closed his eyes. “Not now, please.”

After a pause, Ron squeezed his shoulder before saying, “Well, come on, then. A lot of people have been waiting to talk to you.”

He followed his friends to a large group who was chatting away excitedly. The room erupted into a fit of cheers as soon as they saw Harry trailing behind and he smiled sincerely, feeling grateful to have so many people who were happy to celebrate with him. He almost forgot about the one person who wasn’t there and should have been. _Almost._

He spent the next hour talking to some of his friends and former classmates about life post-Voldemort and answering questions about his well-being. He even stumbled upon two or three individuals whom he apparently knew, but didn’t have the heart to ask to remind him of their names. He’d ask Ginny about it later.

It wasn’t long, though, before he had to excuse himself to go to the loo. Lately he’d been spending much of his time in there, split between the morning sickness he could now put a name to, and the constant need to pee he felt all day after noon.

He was about to reach his seat when he heard a dreamy voice behind him. “Happy Birthday, Harry.”

He turned around and was met with a familiar pretty face that also happened to be one of the few he was really looking forward to seeing that day. “Luna! Thanks, how are you?”

She smiled up at him. “Incredibly glad to be here.” Her silvery eyes studied him for a few seconds. “Being the birthday boy really suits you. You’re glowing, Harry.”

Harry coughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. “Er, thank you.” He quickly asked the first question that came to his mind. “So how was Hogwarts this year?”

“It was exciting and rewarding. I feel lucky to have had a year with Professor McGonagall as Headmistress.”

Harry nodded. “Hogwarts is in good hands.” For a split second, it occurred to him that his child would be going to a Hogwarts led by a wonderful woman and witch. He suddenly felt the urgency to rub his stomach. He resisted.

“It is,” Luna agreed. “Speaking of good hands, I actually found something of yours at the Forest and I’ve been intending to give it back.” She rummaged through one of the pockets of her salmon-coloured dress and took out a small satin bag that was tied with a single ribbon.

When she placed it on Harry’s palm, he carefully untied the knot to reveal its contents. Not even taking the object fully out, Harry’s heart stopped as he realised what it was. The _Resurrection Stone_ was lying on his hands once again.

“This isn’t mine,” he fretted. “Luna, this is-”

“I know.” Harry’s eyes were still wide as he looked at her. “It shouldn’t be wandering around in a place where anyone could find it.”

“Like you did.” Harry’s low voice displayed his dumbfoundedness. How was it possible? It was a one in a million chance. “Why are you giving it to me?”

“It wants to be with you right now, Harry.”

“It, _wants_ …?”

She nodded as if what she had just said made complete sense. “Remember what I told you about our things coming back to us?”

He looked down. “I wasn’t expecting this to come back.”

“Well, if it has it must be because it’s got something to do for you. Something important.” She blinked adorably and, against Harry’s better judgement, he let himself think about her words. “Besides, I can’t think of a better person to keep it safe.”

Harry’s breath hitched as it actually dawned on him that the possibility of talking to _any_ person he wanted to was literally in his hands. _“Sirius”_ , his subconscious supplied, as he remembered the way he had cried himself to sleep wondering what his godfather would say to him the day he found out he was pregnant.

Luna’s voice brought him back to reality. “Whatever you decide to do with it will be the right thing to do, Harry, don’t ever doubt that. I know I won’t.” She gave him one last smile before saying, “I think I’m going to go look for Ginny. She deserves to know what a lovely job she did with your party.”

As he watched her leave, Harry was left alone with his thoughts again. And the idea he was sure was the worst he’d had in months.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_Harry opened his eyes and was greeted by a pair of grey ones studying him and a trademark teasing smirk he had just dreamt about._

_“How long have you been staring at me?” His voice came out raspy, and he cleared his throat to fix it._

_Although Malfoy was lying on the bed by his side, propped up on one elbow, he was already fully clothed in his usual fancy attire. Was it really that late?_

_“Long enough to count fifty snores and three spit bubbles.”_

_Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Dork.”_

_He immediately regretted doing so, because as soon as he was sitting up straight he was hit by the same intense nausea that had been part of his daily routine for the past weeks. In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have stayed the night. Harry knew it was bound to happen; it was not like his symptoms would give him a one-day break._

_He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to lull it away by taking deep breaths through his nose. It seemed to work. At least enough so to spare him the sprint to the toilet._

_Once again, when he opened his eyes the blond was staring at him, this time in concern. “Are you okay?”_

_Harry nodded gingerly. “Fine.” He put a hand to his head with feigned discomfort. “Just a headache.”_

_He took careful steps towards the restroom, risking a stop to pick up his clothes (and wand) from where they had been lying on the wooden floor. He locked the door behind him and quickly cast a Muffliato that would enable him to get sick without worrying about Malfoy hearing._

_As he walked out, he saw him leaning by the door. “Do you need a soothing potion for your head?”_

_“No, it’s okay, thanks. I probably just need to eat something,” he lied. He returned to the bed and sat down cross-legged on top of the duvet._

_The other boy nodded. “You might as well have joined me in my drinking last night, given that the headache is there anyway.”_

_Harry had gotten out of consuming the dreaded liquid Malfoy had bought by telling him that the last bottle of brandy they shared had given him an awful hangover. It wasn’t a complete lie, even if that had obviously not been his main worry._

_“I’m glad I didn’t. Would be ten times worse.”_

_Malfoy walked to him and sat down as well. “Defeated the darkest of wizards but you can’t deal with one sip of high-quality brandy.” He snorted. “Pathetic.”_

_“’Defeating’ Voldemort hasn’t been the most difficult thing I’ve had to do in my life, I can assure you…” There were plenty of things that had been far more difficult for him. Like losing his family and friends. Or coming to terms with the fact that he was pregnant at nineteen._

_That reminded Harry of his mission for that day._

_“So,” he began. When Malfoy met his gaze, he went on. “Ginny has been organising a birthday party for me…”_

_The blond just continued to stare at him, visibly unsure of what to say. In the end, he settled for a simple and blank, “How sweet.”_

_Harry chuckled. “That was meant to be an invitation.”_

_At that, he felt the boy stiffen._

_“I feel deeply honoured, Potter,” he began. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”_

_“Why not?” Harry tried not to sound too disappointed._

_Malfoy spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a five-year-old. “There’s going to be people there.”_

_“Yes, that’s the general idea…”_

_“People you care about.” And there was_ something _to his voice that had Harry shaking, even if what he was saying made no sense at all._

_He frowned. “I don’t-”_

_“It’s just not-” Malfoy sighed. “It’s not a good idea, trust me.”_

_So he didn’t want to go._

_“Okay.” Harry wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it._

_The blond opened his mouth to say something else, but at that precise moment, a timid-looking female house-elf appeared next to the door._

_“Breakfast is served for Mr. Malfoy and his guest.”_

_“Thank you, Mimzy.” He turned to him. “Shall we?”_

_Harry stood up from the bed._

_He tried not to think about what had just happened. Maybe Malfoy was right. Maybe what they had was meant to remain hidden._

_If only what had resulted of it could remain hidden as well…_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Two weeks. That’s the time Harry locked himself in Grimmauld Place thinking about everything. About Malfoy, about the baby… But mostly about whether it would be wise to use _a certain object_ to talk to _a certain person_ that would hopefully help Harry clear his mind regarding everything else.

He had already done it once, at a time where he had certainly needed it. And although the current circumstances were indeed shouting at him to do it again, the words Dumbledore had said to him during his first year somehow resonated louder in his head: _’It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live...’_

According to legend, Cadmus Peverell had lost his mind as a consequence of abusing the Stone’s power. And if Harry was going to be raising his child on his own, then his sanity was worth now more than ever.

He thought he’d finally made up his mind; using it would be too much of a risk. So he was just going to ask Kreacher to take it away and hide it somewhere safe. Somewhere it could wait to be inevitably found and used by someone else. Because it _would_ happen, that much was clear to Harry. For now, he just had to make sure that that someone wouldn’t be him.

Yet, Harry took the small object in his hands and immediately felt his perfect plan vanish into thin air. The Stone had found its way back for a reason. And he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know what that reason was…

He climbed the stairs towards his bedroom clinging tightly onto it as he gave everything one last thought. His parents crossed his mind at some point, but Harry knew deep within they would both support him no matter what choice he made. This time, it was not them whom he needed to talk to.

So, taking a deep, shaky breath, he closed his eyes and just thought about _Sirius_.

He turned the Stone once in his hand and thought about his smile; twice and he recalled the way his hugs felt. Harry turned it one last time and focused on Sirius’ voice…

“Mr. Harry Potter.”

He opened his eyes to find the shade of his godfather smiling warmly at him. As real and unreal as it had been during that night at the Forbidden Forest.

And everything Harry had planned to say suddenly slipped his mind.

“I’m sorry for forcing you to come here again.”

Sirius’ smile widened. “There’ll never be a time that I’m not happy to see you.” He paused for a moment, then seemed to read Harry’s deepest fears. “And there’ll never be a time that I’m not immensely proud of you.”

Harry didn’t say anything, willing himself not to cry so soon in their conversation. Thank Merlin his stubbornness had gotten the best of him.

“I don’t understand what’s got you so upset,” his godfather spoke again.

The boy replied in the smallest voice. “I don’t know what to do...”

That earned him a chuckle and Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“All this time and you’re still playing that game.”

“Game?”

“The ‘I don’t know what to do’ game,” Sirius clarified. “You resist to acknowledge the fact that you’ve always known.”

Harry shook his head. “I-”

“Are going to have to learn to trust yourself. If not for you then for that little one right there.” A ghostly finger pointed at his abdomen.

He brought his unoccupied hand to it and gave up on trying to contain the tears. “I’m terrified of being an awful parent.”

“Every new parent is,” his godfather assured him. “In fact, I would say it’s one of the requirements for becoming an excellent one. You think your parents never had any doubts?”

“They had each other,” Harry countered back.

“And you’re not alone, are you?”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “I know I have a lot of people who love and support me-”

“I’m not talking about that.” Harry stopped talking. “But yes, you do.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

Sirius broke it with a gentle laugh. “Who would have thought? You’re technically carrying the rightful heir of the House of Black. The _always pure_ House of Black...” He regarded him lovingly. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to my lineage in generations.”

Harry hadn’t thought of that before. The baby was actually related to Sirius. The realisation only made him love them more.

But there was something that was still bothering him.

“Are you really not disappointed in me?”

His godfather looked bemused. “For having fallen in love?” Harry blushed deeply, so Sirius tried to lighten the mood. “I can’t really blame you; the boy is quite handsome.”

“He’ll never return the feeling,” he replied bitterly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” When Harry looked up, he continued. “Not everyone is that easy to read, Harry. Each one of us has its own ways of expressing love.”

He took a few minutes to ponder Sirius’ words. There had been certain times when Malfoy’s actions had seemed to be somewhat odd in his opinion. An affectionate look, a too sincere smile, a tinge of fondness in his voice… But up until that day, Harry had just brushed it off.

Then again, the boy had spent his birthday with him of all people. He had been genuinely worried the day Harry was feeling nauseous. And he had… _kissed him._

But he had rejected Harry’s invitation to his party…

“ _Why_ did he do that?”

He jumped slightly on his seat. For a moment there, Harry had forgotten that he was not alone. Had his godfather also just read his mind?

He thought about the answer to his question. Then he remembered something Malfoy had said: _‘People you care about…’_

Suddenly, it all made sense.

“To protect me,” Harry asserted. “So my friends wouldn’t think less of me for associating with someone like him.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and whispered, “Idiot.”

“See? I didn’t need to say a word.” Sirius’ eyes were incredibly bright as he spoke. “Well, I did say one thing...” He leaned towards Harry. “Trust yourself. You already know all the answers.”

He nodded as he felt tears forming in his eyes once again. “Thank you, Sirius.”

The man winked at him. “It’s always my pleasure, kiddo. Always my pleasure.”

Harry closed his eyes one more time as he ironically sought for the strength he needed to let go of the mighty item on his hand. When he opened them again the room had returned to its usual emptiness and gloom.

He allowed himself to lie there for quite a while before he was calling for Kreacher. As per usual, the elf appeared by his side within a second.

“Please go find Ron at the Burrow and tell him that I have to borrow Pig for a few hours,” Harry stated confidently. “I need to reschedule an appointment.”

Kreacher nodded once and was gone in the blink of an eye.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_Harry had been standing by the Manor’s cobblestone fireplace, Floo powder in hand and about to toss it into the hearth, when Malfoy had grabbed his wrist._

_“Hey,” he said quietly. “We’ll celebrate your birthday afterwards, okay?”_

_Harry had just nodded._

_And then the blond boy had leaned in and connected their lips in the first ever kiss they’d shared that didn’t carry any sexual implications._

_When they parted, Harry had thrown the powder and observed the fire blaze furiously at the sudden contact. He stepped inside and uttered in the steadiest voice he could muster, “12 Grimmauld Place.”_

_Malfoy’s silhouette faded away amongst dancing emerald flames._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry arrived at St. Mungo’s twenty minutes before his appointment. Thankfully, the reception area was mostly deserted, with only four chairs occupied by three wizards who seemed outwardly normal and one witch whose hands kept changing colour every time she sneezed.

He walked towards the receptionist as stealthily as he could in order to avoid another ruckus like the ones he was so used to whenever he got recognised at a public place.

“Hello-”

“Mr. Potter!” a voice exclaimed behind him and Harry rolled his eyes, annoyed. A soft wave of whispers and gasps arose from the rows of chairs.

He turned around to find the extended hand of the newly appointed Healer-in-Charge; a man Harry had met before and who always had a fake smile for the people he knew he could somehow benefit from, and a sneer for those who didn’t represent any usefulness to him.

He reluctantly shook his hand. “Good afternoon, Healer Harton.”

“It is, indeed, a marvellous afternoon. What brings you here today?”

Harry hesitated for a bit. When he couldn’t think of a way of escaping the question, he answered, “I have an appointment at half past two.”

The bearded man shook his head. “Nonsense. We can take you in right now.” He directed his gaze towards a broad-shouldered Healer who was just walking in through one of the doors. “Sallow!”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Harry said, but the man had already begun approaching them after hearing his name being called out.

“Would you be so kind as to assist Mr. Potter?” Healer Harton asked the man in green robes.

“Actually, I was hoping I could see Healer Malfoy,” Harry interrupted. “He’s on duty right now, isn’t he?” He had purposely changed his appointment to make sure it would match Malfoy’s work shift.

The Healer-in-Charge did nothing to hide his bewilderment. “Well, yes, he is. But-”

“I don’t mind waiting if he’s tending to other patients.”

The older man’s lips were pursed. “Mr. Potter, Healer Malfoy is still a trainee. He hasn’t got the experience and skill that Healer Sallow here possesses.”

His disparaging remarks made Harry’s blood boil.

“I’m sure Healer Sallow is remarkable at his job.” He turned to address the other man sincerely. He was looking extremely uncomfortable and desperate to abandon the little assembly in which he was so obviously not required. “But from what I’ve heard, _every case_ Healer Malfoy has worked on so far, has had a successful outcome. He’s not going to gain any more experience if he’s not given the opportunity to do so.”

Harry’s defiant words left the entire room speechless. If he was going to cause a scene, it’d be to defend the father of his child.

“I’ll wait here.”

He went to sit down on one of the chairs, but Healer Harton stopped him.

“Mr. Potter, wait.” He turned to face the older man, ready to fight him again if needed. “If you’d come with me… I’ll take you to one of the examination rooms.” He sounded like a little child who had just been scolded. Harry tried not to take too much pride in that and just nodded his head.

He followed him through aisles flanked by several doors until they reached the room at the far end of the ward. He stepped inside and took a seat as the man called for someone to retrieve Harry’s medical chart. Not two minutes later, a petite witch appeared with the specified documentation and they both left promising that his Healer would be there soon.

He’d already finished skimming through one of the worn-out issues of Witch Weekly when the door creaked open and the person he’d been dying to see walked in, looking all professional in his lime green uniform.

The boy took one look at Harry and surprise settled in all his features. “Potter.”

Harry stood up, the small of his back complaining over the amount of time he had spent on that lumpy chair.

“I didn’t realise-” The blond peeked outside, as if looking for something. “Do you want me to get someone else?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I specifically requested _you_.” Harry deliberately omitted the part where he lost his temper at the boy’s boss in front of everyone at the reception in the process.

Malfoy looked at him suspiciously and finally closed the door. “Is this an attempt to, get creative, Potter? Because this really isn’t an _appropriate place_ , you realise…”

Harry had to laugh at that. “No. I’m here for an actual appointment.”

Curiously enough, he didn’t feel nervous at all. The conversation he’d had with Sirius had somehow also been like a simultaneous conversation with himself and now Harry was convinced that, in spite of the result, he was doing the right thing.

 _‘Healer Malfoy’_ scrutinised his face carefully, most likely looking for signs that would give away any possible lie. When he found none, he slowly nodded. “Okay…” He moved away from the door. “So, what can I help you with?” The red tinge on his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by Harry.

“I believe everything should be present in my record.” He eyed the brown file that was resting on top of the desk.

Harry held his breath as the blond boy picked up the stack of papers, opened the folder, and started reading through the first page. He watched as already pale skin began to further lose colour and the same pair of lips that had been on his a few weeks before, parted slightly in utter confusion.

Malfoy looked up at him, silently asking the million questions that he couldn’t voice at the moment. Harry managed to understand and answer all of them with a simple nod.

Grey eyes slowly sealed shut and the shaky breath that followed was so full of emotion that it made Harry’s confidence waver.

“Listen… I’m aware that this is the complete opposite from what you signed up for; I’m not here to demand anything from you. We’re so young, and you’re just getting started with your career, and I’d never-”

“Potter,” the tightest voiced interrupted. “Just, shut up.”

He did.

When Malfoy opened his eyes, Harry could see that they were holding back tears. He laid them on his and asked, “Are you planning on keeping it?”

“Yes.” Harry was proud to find that, regarding that matter, his confidence remained intact. “But as I mentioned before, I’m not expecting you to be involved if you don’t want to. I just thought you deserved to know.”

The blond let out a bitter laugh, a few tears now rolling down his cheeks. He closed his eyes again.

He seemed so fragile like that… Enclosed and suffocated by the walls he had built up himself and all the unsaid words he kept insisting on swallowing.

“ _Draco_ ,” Harry said softly. The boy’s breathing quivered. “Talk to me.”

A loud cry sounded from the room across the corridor. Neither of them moved.

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

Harry shook his head, even though Malfoy’s eyes were still closed. “I’m not the one making things difficult.”

“Yes, you are!” They locked eyes and he could see that the blond really felt that way. “Because you love to sabotage yourself… And I’m terrible at protecting the people I care about.”

Harry didn’t even think about it. One second he was frozen after hearing those words, and the next one he was closing the space between them and kissing the other boy without a care in the world.

He instinctively kissed back, but then gently lowered his head. “Potter…”

“Do you really think you protect me by _not_ being there?”

Malfoy looked into his eyes. “Yes. What good do you think _I_ am going to bring into your lives?”

Harry instantly thought of what Sirius had said about the different ways in which different people express love. He was now learning to identify this boy’s, _his boy’s_ ways…

“I love you too, Draco Malfoy.”

A single tear escaped from those grey eyes, but they never stopped staring at him.

“This is not like missing a party, you know? Doubt now and you’ll miss a lifetime.” Harry took the blonde’s trembling hands in his and guided them to his stomach. “And that’s quite literal this time.”

A pair of thumbs reverently caressed his newly formed small belly while more tears flowed freely down the boy’s pale skin.

“When did you become so good with words?” he asked after a moment.

Harry grinned. “I learned from the master himself.”

Draco placed a single hand a few centimetres away from Harry’s abdomen. He felt a subtle tickling accompanied by a warm sensation and stood still, letting the expert work his magic on him.

The tickling stopped and the Slytherin smiled. “Everything’s going right as it should; she’s perfectly healthy.”

Harry looked up. “ _She_?”

Draco’s smile widened. “Looks like we’re having a daughter.”

This time, Harry didn’t try to do anything to contain his tears. He soon felt arms around him and a light kiss on top of his head along with a whispered, “Thank you.”

He nodded his head. “You still owe me a birthday celebration.”

The most delightful chuckle Harry had heard came out of the blond boy’s mouth. “I fully intend to pay up, don’t worry.”

They stayed like that for a while, just savouring the moment.

“Potter…” Harry met Draco’s gaze. “I was wrong.”

He frowned at him. “About what?”

“I never regretted any of it.”

Harry was about to ask him to be more specific, but the boy seemed to understand before he had the chance to do it.

A smile settled on his lips as he simply said, “You.”

Their lips met again, this time with more confidence on behalf of both parts. Harry thought back to the caption on his photo album and couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

 _This_ was his new chapter, _this_ was his new life.

And as Ginny’s words wisely announced in black ink, it was only the beginning…

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you _so much_ for reading!
> 
> Please don’t forget to let me know what you think; any feedback will be greatly appreciated. <3
> 
> And make sure to check out the rest of the works in this collection! (: They've all been created by the most talented authors and artists...
> 
> This story is part of the on-going and anonymous H/D Mpreg fest. The author will be revealed June 21st.


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